


Restoration

by MarvelGirlForever



Series: Bucky Barnes Fics [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bonding, Brothers, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Dancing, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Forced Ejaculation, Forced Orgasm, Gentle Kissing, Gentle Sex, HYDRA Trash Party, Help, Homeless Bucky Barnes, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Hydra (Marvel), Masturbation, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Non-Consensual Touching, Oral Sex, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Protective Bucky Barnes, Rape Recovery, Recovery, Sexual Roleplay, Showers, Stockholm Syndrome, Sweet, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-27 22:03:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16228208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarvelGirlForever/pseuds/MarvelGirlForever
Summary: You are having a normal, boring day until you stumble upon an injured homeless man living in a grimy alleyway. Being the pure soul that you are, you take him into your apartment that you share with your "friend", Martha. She is immediately disgusted, but you try your best to care for him anyway. He doesn't let you call any professionals to help him, so you allow him to stay with you, much to Martha's disappointment. Soon after, you discover that he isn't your average person, and your entire life turns upside down.





	1. An Average Day...

**Author's Note:**

> HI EVERYONE! This is my first fic ever, so it might not be that good, but please no hate! I hope you like it!

    Today was an average day. In fact, it was too average. 

    Your legs were beginning to grow sore from walking blocks and blocks from the bakery to your car. The stupid parking meter near your workplace wasn't working, so you were forced to park blocks and blocks away. You grumbled to yourself and shivered from the bitter wind. Winter was by far your least favorite season. Bright white icicle lights winked at you from Smiley's Dental Services, and you sighed. You were unable to afford Christmas decorations this year... just like last year. And the year before that. You were barely able to scrape up enough money for groceries, let alone lights, garlands, and a tree. How you wished you were at least able to buy a tree. When you were little, your parents would take you out to search for the perfect one. Your dad was always so picky: it was either too tall, too short, too fat, too skinny, too crooked, too patchy... too  _something._ After an hour or so, he would give in and your family would take home a gorgeous, almost perfect tree. You always liked to pick off a small branch and smell that magical pine fragrance until it drifted away.

    You stepped near the entrance to a dark alleyway, stopped, and peeked in. _Better safe than sorry, right?_   You thought. You were about to keep walking when your eyes fell on a man slumped over on the grimy wall. He appeared to be homeless, and you didn't know what to do. You were about to guiltily continue your journey when you saw a crimson puddle next to his leg. With a gasp, you hurried over and struggled to flip him over. He was absolutely filthy, and you couldn't really make out the features of his face in the dark. His eyes opened groggily and he stared at you, terrified.

    "Hey, it's okay, I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise. Here, let me call a doctor. What happened?" you asked hurriedly as you searched your bag for your cellphone. _Dammit_ , you thought. _I left my phone at the bakery, didn't I?_

    "I think I'll go find someone who has a phone, because, uh, I left mine at work. I'll be right back with help!" You tried to stand up, but he grabbed you with his right hand and winced from the movement. He had a surprisingly strong grip.

    "No, please... no doctors... I can't- uhm," he stuttered quietly, and you went back to kneeling next to him.

   "I'm sorry, but I have to get you some help. You seem to have lost a lot of blood, and... what happened?" you asked, trying to keep the suspicion out of your voice.

    "I'm fine, you can go, I-" the man said, shaking his head vigorously.

    He seemed so distraught that you decided to help him yourself. Then you could clean him up and call the hospital. You would make sure to have Martha's phone at hand in case he turned out to be insane, or a serial killer or something. God, this plan sounded stupid now.

    "Alright! No doctors. For now," you muttered the last part under your breath.

    "For now?"

    How the hell did he hear that?

    "Okay, let's get back to my car. Can you stand?" He nodded, still staring at you, and stood up shakily. You noticed a bloody piece of cloth on his calf that seemed to be an attempt at staunching the flow of blood. It was sort of working. He wobbled and nearly fell over, but steadied himself on the wall. He was extremely tall and towering over you. You helped him walk the next block back to your car, trying not to think about the blood getting all over the seats. That wasn't what mattered right now. The walk back was silent except for an occasional grunt of pain from the man. He walked very oddly, as though he had a lot of broken bones. You gently helped him get into the car, and saw him staring with suspicion written all over his face. 

    "Did I do something wrong?" you asked with a frown. _Of course I did, I just let a complete stranger into my car and I'm about to take him to my apartment. Obviously he's suspicious,_ you thought, mentally smacking yourself.

    He shook his head slowly, but still carefully watched your every move. His gaze was making you uncomfortable. As you began driving home, horrible scenarios began playing out in your head of what could happen. He could be a murderer, he could be mentally unstable, a rapist, or something. He didn't seem like any of these, but you couldn't be sure.

    "So, uh, I never got your name." You said carefully. He looked startled at the question and furrowed his eyebrows in thought.

    "I don't remember," he said raspily. 

    "Sorry, what?" You asked, confused.

    "I think it's James."

    Wow, this was different. Maybe he was drunk, or insane. Or he could have amnesia. He looked out the window, frequently glancing back at you. _I wonder if he's armed_ , you thought.

    The walk to your apartment was a bit awkward because neither of you made any effort to speak. His arm was around your shoulders, and yours was behind his back, trying to keep him upright. You noticed that he was unnaturally well built, which, in your opinion, was pretty odd for a homeless man. You wondered if he had been in the army. When you both stepped inside, you decided to break the silence.

    "There's another person who lives here..." At this, he tensed up.

    "Her name is Martha. She's not always the nicest, but we can make do," you explained with a forced smile. A woman with platinum blonde hair and a jutting chin stepped out. Speak of the devil...

    "Oh. My. God. Why the _fuck_ is this guy in our apartment?" she screeched, face twisted with disgust. James' arm tightened around you.

    You rolled your eyes. "I found him in an alley, and he's badly injured. Please be nice, he really needs help." 

    Martha glared at him. "He looks like shit, keep him away from me and all my stuff! Ugh! I can't believe you, Y/N" She yelled and stormed off. He looked at the ground.

    "Hey, it's okay! Just ignore her. Why don't we get you cleaned up, and we can look at that injury. And, uh, I really think it would be helpful if you told me a bit about yourself and how you got hurt. Please?" You asked a bit desperately. He hesitated before nodding once, and you grinned.

    "Alright! Here, why don't you sit here and roll your pants up? I'll grab the first-aid. I'll warn you though, I'm not exactly a professional. I mean, I know how to treat wounds, and I'm not bad, I'm just not amazing, and if it's super serious, we might have to... You know what, I'm gonna shut up now." You could have sworn that the corner of his mouth turned up a bit, but only for a moment. Practically tripping over yourself, you ran to get the transluscent white box in the closet. After searching through some random junk (mostly Martha's) you grasped the kit and jogged back over to James, who was staring at his leg, which was completely shaved. That struck you as very strange.

    There was a gaping bullet hole which seemed mostly healed, so you assumed that it was old.

    "Is the bullet still in there?" You asked stupidly, realizing that it had to be. How could it not be, unless it went through his leg? And it hadn't.

    "No."

    You were shocked. "No? How?"

   "I took it out." 

   Deciding not to ask how before he said something nauseating, you went to work cleaning it out. he didn't flinch once. To your relief, there was a large roll of gauze in the box, and you wrapped it tightly around the wound.

    "When did you get this?"

    "Yesterday."

    _Yesterday?? How was that even possible? It was halfway healed already!_ _He must be lying_ , you thought.

    When you were done, you helped him back on his feet, and James moved away from your touch. You sighed.

    "Let's get you a shower and some sleep. I hope the couch is okay," you said, gesturing to the old blue couch nearby. You led him to the bathroom, tried your best to explain the wonky controls, and rushed to the dresser for some of your brother's old clothes. 

   "Here you go! I hope these fit fine. They may be a little small, but... yeah. Um, holler if you need anything!" you said awkwardly, handing him the clothes and a towel. He nodded gratefully and closed the door without another word. You turned on your heel and fell face-first onto your creaky bed with a groan. Great _situation you've got yourself into, Y/N,_ you thought to yourself.

    


	2. Chapter 2

    You heard the shower turn off, and waited for James to come out. A couple of minutes later, he silently emerged looking good as new, with only a towel wrapped around his waist. You couldn't help but stare. Jesus... He looked like a god; he had perfectly sculpted muscles and a very handsome face, but his hair... You needed to do something about it.

  
    "Uh, great! You look a lot... better. Would it be okay if I gave your hair a quick trim?" you asked, feeling your cheeks heat up.  
   

    He nodded, and you hoped he didn't notice you drooling. You went into the kitchen and carried a chair back into the bathroom.

    "Wait here! I'll go get scissors. Martha should have some," you said. James went back into the bathroom and sat down in the chair in front of the mirror.

    "Why are you all flushed?" Martha demanded when you bounded into her room. She was lying on her stomach on her bed, watching a movie on her laptop. The only reason she lived with you was that both of your parents were friends, and they had made you promise to let her move in. Now that all four of them had passed away, you would feel absolutely horrible kicking her out, despite her atrocious personality.

    "Nothing. I'm going to cut James' hair."

    "James is his name? Mkay. He seems like a dumbass."

    "Can I borrow your scissors?"

    "No."

    "Thanks."

    You rushed into the bathroom and rummaged through the drawers. When you finally found the metal scissors, you ran back out. Martha didn't seem to care.

    "Got them!" You said triumphantly as you marched back to James. He remained silent.

    "What type of haircut do ya want?" You asked as you started taking care of the knots with a comb. James shrugged. 

    "Well, I guess you get what you get then," you joked.

***

    In your opinion, James looked stunning. He had even smiled and said thank you, making you feel a bit weak in the knees. You had decided to cut his hair short on the sides and leave it a bit longer on the top. You then proceeded to proudly present him to Martha, who rolled her eyes and ducked her head before you could see the blush on her cheeks.

    "Oh, Lord, I almost forgot about dinner! That was stupid of me, I'm sorry. You hungry?" You asked. James nodded quickly, and you motioned for him to sit down at the counter.

    "Well, let's see what we have." You opened the freezer and frowned at it's near emptiness. There was a large carton of orange juice, cream cheese, and a bag of peanuts. 

    _Why on earth did Martha put the peanuts in here?_ You wondered, taking the bag out and placing it on the counter. After searching the cabinets, you concluded that the only food items in the house were: Orange juice, peanuts, Lays chips, Pop tarts, blueberry bagels, cream cheese, and bananas. You sighed and began toasting three bagels.

    "Sorry James, we don't have much. I hope this is okay." 

    He looked very confused at the apology, as if he didn't know what to say.

    "Sorry," he muttered.

    Now you were confused. 

    "Sorry? What are you sorry for?"

    James stared blankly at you, and you saw his jaw working as he thought about his words carefully. 

    "Sorry," he repeated. You gave him an unsure smile. On the inside, however, you were thinking, _What the hell._

    The toaster dinged and you jumped in surprise.

    "Hey Martha, dinner's ready!" You called. She groaned in annoyance at the interruption of her movie. When she saw the bluish-purple bagels that you were pulling out of the toaster, she blew up in rage.

    "Why can't you do better than this, Y/N? This is pathetic! Blueberry bagels for dinner??" She yelled, chin jutting out unnaturally.

    "Didn't you eat Eggo waffles for dinner two nights ago..?"

    "Shut up you worthless bitch!" She screeched, striding quickly towards you.

    You instinctively raised your arms to protect yourself from whatever was to come, despite the fact that Martha had never struck you. 

    In a flash, James was in between the two of you. It took a moment for yoir brain to process what had just happened and to slow your rapid breathing. Your housemate had stopped in her tracks and was looking, dumbfounded, at James' menacing form. 

    "Move," she said stubbornly. 

     Your stomach dropped as you anticipated his next move.

    

**Author's Note:**

> Well, that was the first chapter. I hope it was alright. Thanks so much for reading!


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